ernon. It is very thoughtful of you.
[Rising, and following Algernon.] I'm sure the programme will be
delightful, after a few expurgations. French songs I cannot possibly
allow. People always seem to think that they are improper, and either
look shocked, which is vulgar, or laugh, which is worse. But German
sounds a thoroughly respectable language, and indeed, I believe is so.
Gwendolen, you will accompany me.

Gwendolen. Certainly, mamma.

[Lady Bracknell and Algernon go into the music-room, Gwendolen remains
behind.]

Jack. Charming day it has been, Miss Fairfax.

Gwendolen. Pray don't talk to me about the weather, Mr. Worthing.
Whenever people talk to me about the weather, I always feel quite certain
that they mean something else. And that makes me so nervous.

Jack. I do mean something else.

Gwendolen. I thought so. In fact, I am never wrong.

Jack. And I would like to be allowed to take advantage of Lady
Bracknell's temporary absence . . .

Gwendolen. I would certainly advise you to do so. Mamma has a way of
coming back suddenly into a room that I have often had to speak to her
about.

Jack. [Nervously.] Miss Fairfax, ever since I met you I have admired
you more than any girl . . . I have ever met since . . . I met you.

Gwendolen. Yes, I am quite well aware of the fact. And I often wish
that in public, at any rate, you had been more demonstrative. For me you
have always had an irresistible fascination. Even before I met you I was
far from indifferent to you. [Jack looks at her in amazement.] We live,
as I hope you know, Mr. Worthing, in an age of ideals. The fact is
constantly mentioned in the more expensive monthly magazines, and has
reached the provincial pulpits, I am told; and my ideal has always been
to love some one of the name of Ernest. There is something in that name
that inspires absolute confidence. The moment Algernon first mentioned
to me that he had a friend called Ernest, I knew I was destined to love
you.

Jack. You really love me, Gwendolen?

Gwendolen. Passionately!

Jack. Darling! You don't know how happy you've made me.

Gwendolen. My own Ernest!

Jack. But you don't really mean to say that you couldn't love me if my
name wasn't Ernest?

Gwendolen. But your name is Ernest.

Jack. Yes, I know it is. But supposing it was something else? Do you
mean to say you couldn't love me then?

Gwendolen. [Glibly.] Ah! that is clearly a metaphysi